


Gingerbread Man

by PyromaniacLullaby



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Kidnapping, Yandere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 01:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18305174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyromaniacLullaby/pseuds/PyromaniacLullaby
Summary: "Darling, when you are older, you will understand what it is to love. You will see that it is the most precious, lovely feeling in the world... That it is worth fighting for every time. Worth any amount of suffering, even worth killing for." Her mother reached down, her sweet smile warming the little girl's heart, as she ruffled her child's frizzy hair. "Never settle for second best, darling. That is my wish for you. Love isn't something that just happens... you have to work for it, fight for it with blood and tears. Sometimes you have to create it, sometimes out of nothing. Like I did with your father.""You created father out of nothing?" Liquid, curious look up at her mother with admiration.The girl's mother laughed. "Yes, darling. When we first met, your father was a very different person. But I gave him a new life, a new name, I made him happy... And when you grow up, you will do the same for a boy you love."Years later, a boy smiles at a woman in a brightly-lit department store. She decides that he will be her love. Later that night, she kidnaps him with the intent to mold him into her ideal man. Will love blossom between the two? Or will the lovable psychopath find Rameau's love disappointing?





	Gingerbread Man

My gingerbread man. I made him out of spice, sugar, raw dough, and frosting. With his gumdrop buttons, he is the sweetest person alive. My everything, my love. My gingerbread husband. 

“Fresh out of the oven!” I smile at him sweetly. He blinks lazily, mind still in a haze, the sleepiness making him look bleary and unbelievably cute. My heart races at the sight of his unadjusted face, fantasizing him on the left side of our queen bed, waking up with messy hair and a kiss for me. I desperately try to quiet the frantic pounding, smiling a little, feeling nerves getting the best of me. I wait patiently, tucking a springy strand of brown hair behind my ears. A streak of flour dirties my face. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and rub away the powder, cheeks red with embarrassment. I wipe my dusty hands on my small, white apron.  
In the chair, Rameau groans. Scraggly black bangs fall across his soft face as he groggily raises his eyes. “Wazzat?”  
His mind catches up with the situation. His eyes go wide as he begins struggling against his bonds. The tight rope cuts into his supple flesh.  
“What's going on? Where am I?” Fear pervades his voice, craning his neck frantically absorb his surroundings.  
“Darling, you're awake!” I smile at him, holding out a porcelain tray of frosted sugar cookies. His grown-out hair is far too messy, dirty from being dragged on the ground and oily. I feel a small pang of remorse for the conditions. “Do you want a cookie? I baked it myself.” I put the tray down on the table in front of the chair as I pick an appetizing cookie from the pile, holding it delicately between my pointer and thumb fingers. “Say ahh…” My face feels red-hot. I lean forward, poking the cookie into his face. Sugar lightly dusts his closed lips as he struggles to get away from the baked goods.  
He thrashes against his bonds, turning his face away from the sugar cookie. “What the fuck are you doing woman? Let me go!”  
I pull back, wounded. “That wasn't very nice, Rameau,” I murmur, my cheeks flushed red. I put the cookie back down the the tray, biting my lip and looking at the ground. “Admittedly, I knew there would be adjustment pains.”  
“Who are you? What do you want with me?” He's beginning to cry now, eyes brimming with tears. Whether it's hopelessness or frustration, I have no clue.  
I move closer to comfort him and he instantly jerks away. I drop my gaze to the ground and press my hands together, thumb digging painfully into my left palm. “You're my sweet love. I had to take you here, Rameau, like this, so that we could be together, and you can be the man you're meant to b-”  
“Who the fuck is Rameau?” he interjects.  
I draw back, slightly hurt at the venom in my love's voice. “Why, that's you. That's who you're going to be, at least. My perfect prince, my angel, my Rameau.” I smile, a little more happily, and step forward. “I understand that it might be hard at first, but you'll get used to it, I promise. Love is a hard thing to come by, but we're both going to work at it, together.”  
The boy— Rameau— stares at me for two solid seconds. In his eyes, realization dawns. I don't know what realization, or what he's even thinking, but he suddenly becomes even more afraid. His face contorts as he pulls against his ropes. “HELP! HELP!! SHE'S GODDAMN CRAZY! SOMEONE, ANYONE, IS ANYBODY THERE?” The chair rocks back and forth as he desperately flings his body all over the place, until he tips over and falls on his face.  
I give out a small cry and rush to help him, but he continues thrashing on the floor and screaming. “GETAWAYFROMME, GET AWAY FROM ME, GET AWAY!!” I try to get a grip on him and upright the chair, but he jerks away from my grip, putting his entire body into the motion, yanking the chair back. “Rameau, please—” I begin to protest.  
“SHE'S KIDNAPPED ME! HELP! HELP!” My bonds still hold.  
I can't take it anymore. This is nothing like I imagined. The noise is too great, his voice is too grating, his defiance is too annoying. “Shut up!” I scream. I kick his helpless body, hard in the stomach. The screaming stops as he momentarily gasps for air. I feel my body trembling, voice flushing with rage. “You little shit! Nobody can hear you! You’re sixty feet underground, not to mention ten miles from the nearest neighbor. Nobody is going to find you. I did everything, all this for you!”  
The screaming stops. Rameau falls silent in fear. I look down at his face, brown eyes wide and accusing. No doubt there'll be a bruise on his chest later. I take two deep breaths, calming down as my heart burns red-hot with shame. “I'm sorry, I didn't want to start it like this,” I say. I shake my head. “I have to-”  
“What are you going to do with me?” he interrupts.  
I wince at the rudeness, but shake it off, feeling the flare of emotion roll off me like water off a duck's back. “I just want to love you,” I reply sadly. “I just want you to be perfect.”  
“But I'm not,” he says. The desperation in his voice is obvious. “I'm really not. I'm lazy, I've got no ambition, I'm not charming or good with girls, I-”  
His words make me laugh. The sound shuts him up, reverberating through the empty room. It's so sweet that he's concerned, that he's worried about not living up to my expectations. I manage to control the laughter and smile happily at him. “I know you aren't there yet. But you will be, love.”  
I kneel down and pick his chair off the ground. His feet and wrists are red where he's struggled against the ropes. Limp, Rameau dully lets me kiss him on the forehead.  
“I'll be back,” I promise. “Don't go anywhere, darling.” With one last smile, I turn and leave the room.


End file.
